Pantesed

The chat exploded with laughing emojis.

“FOAM? SHE PADDED THE RACK?”

“LMAO IT’S LITERALLY COUCH CUSHIONS.”

“Ivanna the Sofa Queen!”

I tried to pull the corset back together, but Diana ripped it off my shoulders, leaving me in nothing but a thin, semi-sheer black camisole that did nothing to hide the truth. Without the structural integrity of the corset, my body spilled out. I wasn't the toned, hourglass figure I pretended to be. I was soft—chubby, even. My belly formed a soft, pale roll over the waistband of my leather pants, and my hips were wide and heavy, a classic pear shape that I’d hidden under layers of shapewear and strategic posing. I looked like a muffin.

“Look at these,” Diana said, grabbing the fabric of the camisole and pulling it taut against my chest. “Where did those double-Ds go, Ivie? These look like a couple of empty socks.”

“Stop it!” I cried, tears forming in my blue eyes.

Diana didn't stop. She yanked the camisole up, exposing my breasts to the entire world. They weren't the perky, full globes my fans expected. They were small and tubular, hanging slightly and uneven, with massive, areolas that looked like wide pancakes. Around the edges of the nipples, several long, coarse orange hairs stood out against my pale skin.

“Look at the little ginger sprouts!” Diana laughed, pointing at my nipples. “She’s got a lawn growing on her tits! And they’re so tiny! I’ve seen bigger lemons on a tree in winter.”

“I... I was going to get surgery!” I sobbed. “I was saving up!”

“With whose money?” Diana asked. “The money you get from these poor suckers? Hey, Raphael, take a look. This is the woman who called you a ‘micro-disaster.’ She’s got less chest than you do.”

Raphael stepped closer, a cruel smirk finally forming on his face. “Wow. I always wondered why you never let me keep the lights on. You’re just a chubby little nerd, aren't you?”

“She’s a secret nerd who lives on mac and cheese and fanfiction,” Diana said. She moved behind me and grabbed the waistband of my tight leather pants. “And she’s still wearing the clothes Mom buys her.”

“Diana, no, please, not the pants!” I begged, thrashing in the chair. “Anything but the pants!”

Raphael stepped forward and grabbed my arms, pinning them behind the back of the chair. He wasn't strong, but I was so panicked I couldn't fight back effectively. Diana unzipped the leather pants and tugged. They were so tight they made a squeaking sound as they slid down my wide hips, revealing my lower half.